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by Blazezon on Sun Sep 11, 2016 12:59 am
All around you steam vents hiss, venting a foul smelling mist that settles into a fog around your feet. It's dank, everything you touch feels damp, and the ground squelches with every step you take. All around you the sound of hushed conversations, hoods being pulled up, and people coughing from the noxious miasma echo around you. You look around, maybe boldly, maybe with fear, either way every time you catch someone's gaze it's only for a moment.
Every pair of eyes in this hell hole is on you, until you meet their angry stare.
Maybe you look up, maybe the echo reminds you, maybe you see something shiny; who knows, but no matter what draws your attention upwards you look to the crumbling, sledge-dripping roof of the Slumwalks. That's right, you're underground. You could scream for hours, and nobody would here you. In theory you weren't stupid, or arrogant enough to tell anybody you were coming here, but maybe you did to feel a little safer.
It's probably not working though, even a Demi-God would probably know when they're in someone else's turf. Someone else's hands.
You're safe, though. Hopefully you're smart enough to be holding it openly, maybe you're hiding it, maybe you swallowed it. No matter the case, somewhere on your person is a little golden coin. It's a gaudy thing, three ravens in a circle adorn it, their eyes tiny little psuedo-rubies. This mark means you're off limits. You're supposed to be here. You're a client.
Of course as you near your destination, a little ramshackle and rundown Tavern. The blinking sign above it's dilapidated roof says "The Bloody Swallow". Mostly, anyway. Some of the letters don't light.
The hushed conversations around you have stopped. The hissing of the various vents is drowned out by banter, music and laughs. There's a line of trashcans containing fires on either side to keep the dampness at bay. Because of the hell you've walked through to get here, it should feel pretty inviting, maybe you don't care at all though, maybe nothing phases you.
Still, it's do or die time.
You swallow hard, even the air down here tastes like swamp water, and push the little ramshackle door open. Door is generous though, it's just a sheet of wood on a single hinge. Hell, it even squeaks, and there's a good chance you got a splinter just from touching it. Although that probably doesn't seem important, considering every patron in the tavern is frozen, staring blankly at you.
It's not hard to see people reaching for guns, knives, who knows what else.
You think quick, hold up the coin, or maybe you bluff your way through. Either way you step inside, the casual vibe returning to The Bloody Swallow as you make your way to the bar. Someone's been waiting for you, smiling now. Maybe you didn't realize it till now, but when you said "I know a guy." two days ago, it was accurate.
You do know him, maybe from a mall, or cafe topside, maybe all your life, maybe this is the first time you've seen him, but he sure treats you like a friend. This is the Thieves' Guild contact. This is one of "the guys" everybody seems to say they know.
"Grab a beer. Go for a bottle, glasses ain't clean. I'll go find us a booth, and we can get down to the tax."
Intro aside, this thread is your metaphorical "I know a guy", guy. Post here with a job you want done on Terra.
Maybe your space dictator wants a classic Terran car. Maybe you just want some gossip, or hush-hush information. Maybe you just really don't like someone and want their house robbed. Hell, maybe someone stole something from you and you want your stuff back, and the perp beat within an inch of his life.
Whatever you need stolen or "repossessed" on Terra, this is the place to ask. Just write down what character has a job, and a little bit about it, and I mean little. Like, a sentence is fine. Just something to give the IC contact to go off of.
I promise a TTG member will come find you, or be waiting at The Bloody Swallow asap!
Bring cash.
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